


all of your colonies and continental divides

by song_of_staying



Series: wedding present [2]
Category: Prince of Silk and Thorns - Cherry Dare
Genre: Communication, Established Relationship, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-23
Updated: 2015-12-23
Packaged: 2018-05-08 19:03:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,106
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5509532
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/song_of_staying/pseuds/song_of_staying
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It is slow, careful work, de-coding the letter Alar has written. Garin can feel the process becoming instinct even as he works. Soon, he will be able to burn Alar's instructions.</p>
            </blockquote>





	all of your colonies and continental divides

**Author's Note:**

  * For [jury](https://archiveofourown.org/users/jury/gifts).



> Dear figuline - I hope you enjoy this followup to _let your lion heart cleave the waves_.

Garin is floating in and out of a vague, gold-edged dream. He senses that Alar is awake, and curls around him without opening his eyes.

“I would like to teach you something,” Alar says, and kisses Garin's wrist.

Garin smiles, with a sleepy surge of pleasure. Usually, when Alar wants to teach him new feats of sex or horsemanship, he does so without announcing it in advance. This has to be something particularly exciting.

“If you need me to be hard for it, we can start right now,” he mumbles into Alar's neck.

Alar makes a soft, amused noise. “No, I need you to be awake for it. Go back to sleep.”

Garin obeys, holding tight.

* * *

They share a light breakfast of bread and honey, sitting on the bench beneath the olive trees. Garin eats slowly, feeling unsettled.

“Are you sure I'll be able to learn the code?” he asks, trying to ignore his other worry. Alar has written down the rules for him, pages of symbols and examples. Garin has skimmed it and noted some disquieting headlines, such as 'Rotation' and 'Clusters'.

“Of course.” Alar shrugs. “I learned it when I was twelve.”

“But you were - ” Garin gestures vaguely, trying to indicate 'raised around books and intrigue', or perhaps merely, 'not a peasant farm boy'.

“Garin, you are more than capable of doing this. You learned to read very quickly – and you have learned two languages since we have arrived.”

“Only well enough to listen. I can't speak without making a fool of myself.”

“You learned bookkeeping faster than I did.”

Garin shrugs, looks away. He doesn't truly doubt his own ability to learn the code – he had done more difficult things for Alar.

“It's your brother's code,” he says at last.

“And my sister's, now – but, yes, Sesuldo invented it.”

“I would never want to take anything away from you.”

Alar looks at him, astonished, bright. “You wouldn't be. I am sharing it with you.”

Garin cannot resist smiling back.

* * *

It is slow, careful work, de-coding the letter Alar has written. Garin can feel the process becoming instinct even as he works. Soon, he will be able to burn Alar's instructions.

_Dear Alazne,_

_I hope you are well, and I hope your new gift hasn't eaten anyone important. Have you been training it? Garin attempted to do so, which was fruitless but entertaining. He is very happy to have returned to his horses._

_You asked for a full account of our “adventure” - sister, I can recognise the bitterness in your letter, and I know you are cherishing daydreams of taking your wife (and perhaps your new pet – are you fond of it yet?) and leaving the kingdom to fend for itself. Of course, you would never do that. It might be kinder to weave you a colourful story of danger and courage, to fuel your jealousy but sate your curiosity. But I am bound to tell my sovereign the truth: the greatest trial of our quest was the boredom._

_One of the dullest parts was being overrun with corsairs on our very first voyage. Don't roll your eyes! By my estimation, Garin and I could have subdued the corsairs – they were few, and desperate – but the crew believed us to be a priest and masked acolyte, and it would have damaged our credibility. Instead, we hid ourselves in a box in the brig, for the length of time it took the corsairs to rob the slower, less careful passengers. Obviously, it is very boring, waiting for hours in darkness and absolute silence._

_Our arrival was smooth and we moved from village to village, seeking the storied lake. The Vikings were good hosts – happy to share their homes, and wholly uninterested in our affairs. They told us many stories, some of them about angels. They have their own pantheon, and it seems both crueler and more equitable than ours. I am sure Isold will tell you about it, if you ask her._

_It was Garin who had found the dragons_

Garin looks up from his work when Alar enters the study. Alar is barefoot, and smells warm from a day spent in the sun. Garin puts his quill down when Alar walks up behind his chair.

“You've been working very quickly,” Alar says, reading over his shoulder.

“Yes,” Garin agrees. “Won't your sister mind that I've read your correspondence?”

“Maju's wife reads his correspondence,” Alar says.

“Because Maju doesn't read,” Garin points out. Alar kisses his temple, and Garin leans back, melts into him.

“She won't know and wouldn't mind,” Alar says. “What do you think about the letter?”

“I – I wonder why you decided this was the best thing for me to practice on.”

It is a roundabout way to approach his true question – but Alar looks away, like a boy caught in a lie.

“When we were together, it was easy to talk to her,” he says at last, considering each word carefully. “Because she was there and she was so very alive. But, in the letter – perhaps it was merely because of the code, but I caught myself imagining Sesuldo as the recipient, instead of her. And Alazne doesn't deserve to be replaced like that. So I was – I want you to read it, to make sure there is nothing of that sadness in it.” He shrugs, smiles faintly. “You are better than I am, at paying attention to what is in the present.”

Garin's chest aches with sorrow and understanding – and underneath that, gentle relief. He stands up and offers a hug. The muscles in Alar's back are taut and his breathing is sharp, but he lets his head rest on Garin's shoulder.

“I will read the letter for you,” Garin promises, and kisses him deeply, to seal the promise. It is a good kiss, and Garin briefly considers the possibilities of having sex in the study: the desk is sturdy, and there is copious space underneath it. But Alar has a different plan – he pushes Garin back down on the chair, and sits down across his lap, facing outwards and maintaining perfect dignity. Garin feels like a serviceable piece of furniture, which is not an unpleasant thought. He rests his hands around Alar's waist.

“It is your turn,” Alar says lightly. “What were you worrying about, truly?”

“That you were preparing me to receive letters from you in code,” Garin admits. “That you were going away.”

“Without you?”

“It was foolish.”

“Very.” Alar rakes his nails across Garin's knuckles. “I should remind you how unlikely that is. The letter can wait.”

He takes Garin's hands, and Garin follows his direction.

**Author's Note:**

> The title to this fic comes from Never Look Away - Vienna Teng. Probably my favourite Alar/Garin song!
> 
> Thank you to my beta readers for their excellent last-minute advice.


End file.
